Coffee Guy
by MTgivens
Summary: an alternative storyline after Payson comes home from from France. Payson begins a romance with an older man. I started it on 6/9/10, so it doesn't have all elements of the latest episodes. If people want more, I will write more chapters. :P
1. Chapter 1

An alternative romance

_"I am growing," she thought._

Payson sat alone in her room, staring at the mirror. She wasn't going to the gym, and she didn't want to see anyone. Her blonde hair and smooth face would easily be overshadowed by the red eyes that were glowing.

So many tears had fallen over the past year.

_"And now I'm growing," she thought again._

There were so many thoughts that had kept her company over the last year. Ever since she found herself in a hospital bed with a broken back, a broken dream, and broken thoughts running through her head. And not to mention, no National Team.

It could have been so different, but it wasn't. She was now trapped in the body of a damaged gymnast, who had fallen off the uneven bars in front of the entire nation. Her dream of being the national champion was gone for two years, and possibly forever.

And everyone was ahead of her.

Payson knew that there was not a soul on earth that knew what she was going through.

She realized she did have a best friend. The new national champion of the "The Rock," Kaylie Cruz. But did Kaylie really play the role of a friend in need?

Payson knew she had support, but it felt hollow. Kaylie had more fun wearing the crown of gym leader. Did she really know what Payson went through? Every step Payson took she felt the disks in her back move in just the smallest way. It wasn't painful physically, it was a reminder that she was damaged.

No, today she would not go to the gym.

Today was for Payson to be alone and realize that she had to do something unthinkable…become a woman.

II

The streets of Boulder were bright and sunny, and they were comforting enough to the eye for Payson to hide her tears. She walked with hair in a pony tail and wearing a bright yellow jacket.

But it wasn't that cold. She just preferred it because it made people notice the jacket and not her body.

Normally, Payson went for juice, but today she walked into a Starbucks. It was 10:30 A.M. All the morning office workers had already had their coffee and overpriced pastries. And it was too early for the standard lunch break, where office workers had their coffee and overpriced salads. So the place was empty.

Payson walked to the counter, and there was no one there. To her left were three black bar stools and fake marble seating area. She sat down and peered around to see someone.

Emerging from the back room came a man, wearing a skintight black over shirt, and the standard green Starbucks apron. His hair was matted and dark brown. Eyes were distant and not focusing on much. And he was wearing gloves inside.

The first thing Payson thought of when she saw him was.

_"Walking Mess."_

"So what can I do for you?"

"What kind of coffee do women drink?" She asked.

He paused and looked confused.

" Um, I don't know you tell me," he replied. "You're the woman."

"I am not a woman," Payson shot back. "I am not a woman yet, but I will be soon. So I need to learn how to do what women do. But I'm still a girl for now. I wish it was always that way."

"So are you like a female Peter Pan?" He asked. "You know a lot of the actors that played him were women."

"No," Payson said awkwardly. "But I did play a prince once."

The employee only stared at her with his blank look and nodded.

"I see," he mumbled. "Well, what's popular with women? Grande Green Tea Latte probably."

"Ew," Payson almost spat.

"I know, it tastes like it looks," he agreed. "Why don't you get the standard French Press coffee? It's a dollar more, but the quality is…well, frenchly exquisite."

He smiled. Payson frowned.

"No, anything but that," she almost screamed.

"Pourquoi pas mademoiselle?

"Don't speak French either," she gasped a little. "I just got back from Calais where I ruined my life. And now I have to deal with all this….being a woman."

The barista laughed. Then, he realized he shouldn't and grimaced while staring at the ground.

"Desole," he admitted slowly. "I mean sorry."

"So you speak French?" she asked sarcastically.

"Um, I'm not supposed to mention anything French," he nodded along, and for the first time Payson read his name tag which said Malik.

"Fine mention this," she requested.

"I was born in a place called Lebanon," Malik began. "It's a tiny country in the middle east. I guess they have a lot of French speakers. When I was 2, we moved to Bulgaria, and lived there until I was 8. Then, we moved here when my dad starting teaching at a NYU. He's a Geneticist."

Payson nodded without a strong interest.

"Sounds nice," she said.

"Not really," Malik disagreed. "My family is full of scientists. Full of French-speaking Scientists that only talk about Science in French. I was never interested. So once I turned 18, I just left one morning. I said I was moving out to California to become a singer. I got as far as boulder. And I've been here for five years."

Payson now made eye contact with Malik for the first serious time.

"You're a singer?" She asked, thinking of her friend and fellow gymnast, Emily, who at one point was torn between two musicians.

But she quickly tossed that thought out of her head.

"Nope," Malik muttered. "I wanted to be, but it's not possible. I am much better at being the manager of a Boulder Starbucks."

He laughed a little, but Payson did not.

"Why didn't you go after your dream?" Payson demanded to know.

After falling off the bars at Nationals, Payson felt shocked that someone had the chance to go after a dream, but wouldn't.

"It's just not possible," he said again.

"No, you only get one chance to go for what matters most in your life," Payson started to rant, "and you don't realize how much you truly want your dream, once it's gone."

"I told you, it wasn't possible," he raised his voice.

"No, why didn't you go?" She demanded again.

"Because nobody wants a singer that looks like this."

Malik ripped off his two black gloves and revealed the skin of his hands, he was cloaked in brown scars with traces of red. The skin was mangled and charred. And Payson gasped and gulped a little. She was just thankful that she didn't scream.

"Every time I wanted to sing for people," he began, "they always wanted to see what I looked like. They always wanted to know why someone would want to sing in a body suit with turtleneck black gloves. It got to the point where no one cared what I sounded like, but they only cared about the look. And I don't have the look."

"I'm sorry," she said. "How did it happen?"

Malik looked at her, and his eyes bore signs of discomfort.

"I was ten. It was my birthday, and it was almost midnight. I had my birthday cake earlier, but I thought the candles weren't a big enough flame. So I tried to make a bigger flame with the kerosene lantern. I lit it, but then I knocked it over in the living room. The couch caught fire first, and I tried to put it out, but there were too many flames. It just felt like it was eating me, and it guess it kind of was."

"Oh my gosh," Payson exclaimed.

"The whole house was burned to the ground," he continued. "I was the only one hurt."

"How bad is it?" Payson asked him.

"What? The scars?" He asked back. "Everything from the neck down almost, but that I honestly do not mind anymore. After the fire, my four sisters didn't hated me. I was trapped in a cast of bandages and ointment for 11 months, and I could hear them complaining about losing their stuff in the fire, losing their make up kits, and easy bake oven. I wanted to be like 'try losing all the skin on your lower body, and being stuck in one room for almost a year. Then, talk to me about lost.'"

Payson nodded, and she smiled at Malik as he put his gloves back on.

"I can't know bad that was," she admitted, "but last year well…I was a gymnast. I am a gymnast, and I worked harder than anyone I know. Anyone on the face of the Earth, and one second I fell off the bars, and I fractured my spine. I had lost it all too. My dream was gone. I could barely walk, and I was trapped in a giant metal back brace that made me look like a "teenage mutant ninja turtle," as one person put it."

Malik laughed.

"I should not have laughed," he acknowleged.

"No, not really," Payson smiled jokingly. "I didn't think anyone else could understand. What it's like to one second be yourself, and the next second you have the same mind, but you feel like nothing. Your life feels gone forever."

"But you said you're still a gymnast," Malik pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess I am," said Payson.

"I didn't catch your name," mentioned Malik.

"Payson," she answered. "Payson Keeler."

"Well, Payson, why don't I write you my address here, and you should come over tonight. And I don't mean anything more than just coming over."

He began scribbling numbers and letters on a napkin and slid it to her.

Payson froze.

"Maybe," she said at last, and took the napkin in her pocket. Then, she was out the door in a flash, not realizing she hadn't ordered any coffee.

III

Payson sat at the dinner table with her mother. Her sister Becca was off with one of her friends for dinner, probably Avery, but Payson wasn't sure.

"Are you okay?" Her mother asked. "You haven't touched your mashed potatoes."

"I am fine," Payson answered.

"Well, okay, what did you do today?" she pressed.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing," Payson responded with lightning speed.

"Sounds like…okay," she answered.

"Can I be excused Mom?" Payson asked for permission. "I didn't make it to the gym today, so I probably should get in another run."

"Sounds good."

"Okay, bye. Oh but mom, I will be at the gym tomorrow. I'll be there as early as I can."

Payson was aware of her awkwardness, but she was more concerned with the uncomfortable feeling of butterflies and adrenaline in her system.

_"What are you doing Payson?" she told herself as she walked outside. "What are you doing? You are Payson Keeler. You don't date boys. Besides, he's like 23, and you are nowhere near his…Oh, you didn't tell him your age did you? And the fact that you're growing now means, he probably thinks you're a lot older. Would he care if you were still a minor? And why are you still walking? This is not like you at all. Don't do this Payson. You've seen what happens when gymnasts date guys. It ruined things between Kaylie and Lauren. It cost Emily her chance to compete in Calais. So why are you still walking?" _

A half hour later she was at his door. Her blood felt like it was on fire and racing too quickly.

The door opened, and Malik was standing in front of her, wearing pajama pants and a long sleeve pajama shirt with gloves.

"I didn't expect you to come," he confessed.

"No one else understands, do they?" She asked him. "No one else knows what it's like to have that kind of loss."

And she took a step forward and she kissed him.

To Be Continued.


	2. Chapter 2

Aar 2

IV (continued from Coffee Guy part 1)

She had actually gone for it. Payson Keeler had gone out to meet a man that was not right for her at all. She had met him at the Starbucks in Boulder only earlier that morning.

Payson remembered how her friend, Emily, ended up with the pizza boy from her old job, and now it was Payson's turn, except instead of the Pizza Boy, she had the coffee guy.

She didn't know what was in her mind, or why exactly she was behaving like this, but Payson leapt forward, and she kissed Malik right on her lips.

_"What am I doing?" She shouted inside her own thoughts. _

"Would you like some space ice cream?" Malik asked randomly.

"Excuse me?" retorted Payson.

"I shouldn't have said that," he replied. "I mean, would you like to come in?"

"Better," she admitted.

Payson stepped inside Malik's apartment, and saw the filth of an Eastern European slum. There were clothes all over the floor and empty liquor bottles lined on the window.

But somehow, it didn't seem to bother her.

She sat down on the old brown crummy couch, inside Malik's studio apartment, and only stared at him.

"Seriously, why space ice cream?" she asked him. "Isn't it called Astronaut Ice-Cream?"

"I really don't know," Malik blushed at his awkwardness. "I didn't know what else to say. I do have some though, but I never eat the strawberry. It's all yours."

Payson wanted to laugh, but she was too uncomfortable to laugh. For the first time in her life, she had done the unthinkable for Payson Keeler. She had made the first move to a guy she had known for only seven hours, and this is what happened.

No wonder girls didn't do it more often.

Malik sat down beside her in his long-sleeve pajamas.

"So what brings you here?" He asked.

"You invited me," Payson reminded him.

"Right," said Malik. "Should we kiss again?"

"Yes," she said without a doubt.

And then, their lips met again quickly, and she kissed him. And Malik kissed her back. Payson felt something different with Malik. She had kissed boys before. She had kissed boys that were excellent kissers, such as Nicky Russo, but this was different.

This was something Payson Keeler was not good at…..being spontaneous.

For the first time in a long time, she had done something just because she felt like it. And as her lips ran against Malik's, she stroked the back of his head with her hands. Her hands began racing all over his body, and then she went to slide his hands under his shirt.

"Whoa, hold on," Malik interrupted.

"Are you okay?" She inquired.

"Remember I told you about the scars," he reminded her of how over half his body had been burned in a house fire. "I…I...No one has ever seen me with my shirt off. I mean, a woman has never seen me with my shirt off."

"Oh, it's fine," she told him. "No guy has ever seen me with my shirt off."

Then, her face almost went bright red. She couldn't believe she had just told that to a guy she was making out on the couch.

Then, Malik started to laugh, and Payson laughed back.

"Shut up," she ordered with a joking smile.

"I guess we're even more alike than we thought," said Malik as he pulled Payson closer to him.

And he kissed her again, softer this time.

"I'm glad you came," Malik grinned. "I knew there was something different about you."

Payson rested her head against his chest, but then, she started to feel cold.

She was with a man, and now she knew why this wasn't like her. Because if she was caught with a man, she would end her gymnastics comeback. This was why she was the one who didn't break the rules about dating, because she couldn't lose her chance at the Gold Medal.

But why wasn't she letting go of Malik?

She felt cold, but he made her feel warm.

"Yeah, there is something different about me," Payson told him. "Look Malik, I am only well….not 18. In fact, I'm not even close."

He said nothing at first.

"Oh, you looked older to me," Malik finally spat out.

_"That's because I'm growing," she thought violently._

"Look, I mean….I don't want to sound weird," began Malik, "but it doesn't bother me how old you are, or how old you aren't."

Payson felt cold again.

Why did he have to be okay with it?

"Let me ask you something," Malik continued. "Did you want to come here tonight?"

There were so many answers to that question.

She had wanted to see him, but she was also super nervous.

She did not want to go and get in trouble, but she liked the idea of knowing someone she could relate to.

She wanted to be there, but she didn't want to get caught.

"Yes," she answered in one word.

"Then stay," he suggested.

Payson didn't say another word. She kissed him once more, and she knew that she wasn't going to leave.

They kissed and kissed until there were no more questions.

V

"What time is it?" Payson asked Malik rather frantically.

"It's 10:15," he replied after he looked at his watch.

"Oh crap," she almost erupted. "I told my mother I was going jogging four hours ago. She'll think I'm running to Denver and back."

She scrambled off of the couch. Her hair was a mess, and her yellow jacket, had somehow ended up behind the sofa.

"It's not that bad," Malik consoled her.

"Oh sure," she snapped back. "I'm just going to tell her that I spent almost three hours making out with the manager from Starbucks! That will go well."

"I mean, haven't you ever stayed out late before?" He furthered his questioning.

"No," she answered swiftly. "I am Payson Keeler. I don't break the rules. I am in bed every night on time, because it pays off. I have to be at the gym in the morning, and I…I…I just have to go."

"Want me to drive you?" Malik offered.

"Please," Payson admitted.

As they drove down the road in Malik's blue 1988 mustang, Payson's facial muscles were so tense, Malik wondered if they would implode.

"I really don't think it's that bad," he comforted her again.

"Just drop me off at the end of my street," she requested.

"Sure thing," he answered.

The car came to a stop where Payson directed him.

"We can't do this again," she informed him. "Like ever again."

A long pause followed; then,

Payson leaned toward him again and kissed him.

"I'll see you tomorrow night, but that has to be the last time," she decided.

Malik smiled in the car, for he knew that was impossible.

VI

One week later

Payson was in the mood of her life. She was smiling wide, and there was a new ambition for her in gymnastics. Her new goal was to attack the sport as an artistic gymnast, and she was so thankful that her coach Sasha still believed in her after all this time.

And it was not just Sasha that believed in her. She was now the proud recipient of the "Payson Keeler Championship Cup," an award for showing the spirit of a champion that would live on forever.

There was one more person that supported her to no end, but this was someone outside the Rock's walls.

After practice and dinner, Payson always found excuses to run out for two or three hours to see Malik.

They would watch T.V. together, or they would listen to all kinds of music, or they would even go to out to restaurants and the movies. But most importantly, Malik made her laugh. In fact, they laughed together.

And now it was a dark evening, but the weather was still warm. Payson and Malik walked down well-lit street in Boulder, and things were still good. Payson was drinking a peach smoothie and Malik had a cup of hot black coffee.

Payson felt like she was on top of the world.

And Malik felt like he had meaning in life, when Payson was with him.

"I hate to ruin an evening," said Malik, "but I really have to use the gentlemen's room."

"I hate to try and stop you," she giggled, as her hand let go of his.

There was a bench nearby, and Payson sat down on it as Malik walked inside a MacDonalds. The sky was clear, and there was not a single person around. The air was peaceful but almost waiting for something bad to happen.

VII

"Payson Keeler," called the unforgettably hated voice of Kelly Parker, the current National Silver medalist.

"Kelly," Payson muttered, a little baffled. "What are you doing here?"

"Well Keeler, in case you've forgotten, the National Team likes to hold our practices in that gym-shaped waste basket you call The Rock."

"I meant, are you following me or something?" She demanded.

"Now, why would I do that Pay?" She teased. "I mean, every girl just needs a little fresh air sometimes…especially when you're holding hands with some weird-looking middle eastern man, who wears gloves out of season. Somebody might have to pinch me because this seems too much like a really bad dream."

Payson didn't say anything because she had noticed Malik walking up beyond her casually sipping his coffee as he heard Kelly Parker taunt Payson.

"I mean, do your little teamies know about this," Kelly went on, "do they know that little miss perfect Keeler is humanly rotten like the rest of us."

"Now there is no way that could be true," Malik announced to Kelly Parker, who turned around a little startled.

As soon as she made eye contact with Malik, he smiled and the black coffee in his cup went flying into Kelly Parker's face. She squealed and screamed as the heat smacked against her.

"What did you do?" She roared. "I can sue you for that. I can file assault charges."

"I don't know about that," he returned as he looked at Payson. "My witness here might say otherwise. Looks like you're on your own."

Malik grabbed Payson by her arm, and they ran. They ran down the street and turned the corner into a dark alley.

"What is wrong with you?" Payson yelled at him. "You can't do that. You can't just get mad at someone and pour hot coffee into their face. I hope she's okay. Did she seem hurt?"

Malik took a step back.

"That's what you're concerned about, about that girl that was trashing you to no end," Malik was surprised. "She's fine. It's just coffee. It's not molten lava or hydrochloric acid."

"What just happened?" Payson begged to know. "Why would you do that? You could have really hurt her. I am going to go see if she's okay."

Payson saw the shock on Malik's face.

"I only did what you wanted to do," he informed her.

"Why do you think I would have done that to Kelly Parker?" Payson interrogated him. "She may be a pain in my life, but I don't want to put her in the hospital."

"There isn't an ounce of evil in you," he stated.

"Why is there any in you?" She asked. "When I met you, I thought we were both two broken people. But we're not. I am healing, and you're doing the opposite. Don't you get it? We both had second chances. I fell off the bars, but I got back on as soon I was ready. I was scared, and I wasn't sure I'd make it, but I did. You survived something horrible, and you had the chance to move on from it, but you don't. You just burn other people, hoping that they'll be as miserable as you."

"Okay, I'm not like that," Malik protested.

"Tell that to Kelly Parker," said Payson sternly.

I am going to make sure she's okay.

Payson then turned, and she walked away from Malik. She walked down the street than ran back to see if she could still find Kelly. She hadn't cried in over a week, but she felt the tears wanting to fall. She had to be stronger though. She had a chance to change things, but mainly she wanted nothing more than to find Kelly and leave Malik.

To be Continued.


End file.
